


Work in Progress

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 18:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on a walk, Alfred meets a prickly young artist, whose attention he is determined to get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Work in Progress

**Author's Note:**

> I'm slowly but surely uploading old stuff here. Written/originally posted in November 2010. This was inspired by Persona 3 (Junpei and Chidori) I didn't mean for it to be as... stalkerish as it ended up, but at least they're equally creepers? I tried to reduce some of it, but it is what it is. lol

Bright, sunny days, were Alfred Jones's favorite kind of day. A lot of people he knew in the city liked cool, overcast weather, but Alfred loved the warmth of the sunshine and the blue sky and loved being able to see and feel them.

The previous week had been filled with dark, dreary weather. There had been lots of rain and wind, which Alfred wasn't particularly fond of. It was his summer break, and rather than being out and enjoying his time off from school, he was spending it all indoors, watching television and playing video games. While he did enjoy doing those things, Alfred also loved being active and being outside. It drove him crazy not being able to do that because of the weather.

So, once the rain stopped and the sun came out, Alfred was outside, enjoying the beautiful weather. Unfortunately, none of his friends were free to join him, but he wasn't going to let that ruin his day. He decided to take a walk down to the city plaza and hang out there. It had been awhile since he had been downtown, and there were a lot of things to do there. There were several shops as well as various things to see and places to eat. With all the options, he could easily find something to do. He could also do some people watching- the plaza was one of the busiest places in the city, so there was always a large number of interesting people there.

When he got to the plaza, he was pleased to see that was still the case. The area was full of people talking, laughing, and shopping- perfect for some people watching while he thought of something else to do. There was a small cafe in the corner of the plaza that Alfred decided would make a good base of operations. He could grab a coffee, sit at one of the tables outside, and observe the people who passed by. With a plan in mind, he made his way towards the cafe, humming happily to himself as he walked. Before he could make it, though, he spotted someone who instantly stole his attention.

It was a young man (Alfred guessed he was probably about his age), seated on some cement that surrounded a bed of flowers within the plaza. He was hunched over a sketch book, his unusually large eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he sketched. Alfred was mesmerized by the way his hand moved skillfully as he drew and the way his messy blonde hair fell into his beautiful bright, green eyes. Everything about the young artist intrigued Alfred, and suddenly his plans for the evening didn't matter anymore- he had to go talk to him.

"Hey!" Alfred said with a small wave as he approached the stranger. He gave his best, brightest smile, and was rather surprised when all he received in reply was an unfriendly scowl.

"What is it?" The man asked. He spoke with a British accent that made Alfred's heart flutter.

Alfred stuffed his hands in his pockets and shifted back onto his heels. "Nothing, really. You seemed lonely, so I thought I'd come say hi!"

The young man turned back to his sketch book, tilting it up slightly, most likely so Alfred couldn't see what he was working on. "Thank you for your concern, but I am perfectly content being alone."

Shifting back onto the whole of his feet, Alfred nodded. "Oh, well, that's cool."

Silence filled the air as Alfred waited for a reply that never came. The artist was so engrossed in his sketching, his pencil moving effortlessly across the paper, that Alfred was sure he had forgotten he was even there. When he thought about it, Alfred himself wasn't sure why he was still there, or what sort of reply he was expecting- he just wanted something, anything, if only to hear that adorable accent again.

When it became clear he wasn't going to get anything from the man, he broke the silence himself. "Being lonely is cool, but it'd be more fun to have company, wouldn't it?"

"No," the artist replied without missing a beat, not even bothering to look up from his drawing.

Alfred bit his lower lip, then said, "Ooookay, then..."

When he didn't actually leave, the artist finally looked up at Alfred. He took the opportunity to give the man a bright, friendly smile, hoping to win him over. It didn't work.

"I understand that you're American and are most likely unable to understand subtle hints, but I believe I had made it quite clear that I had no interest in speaking with you." The young man snapped, his scowl deepening.

"Oh, well, I can just stand here and keep your company if you don't want to talk to me." Alfred said, determined. It was too soon to give up.

"If you're seeking someone to keep you company," the man began, turning back to his drawing, "there are plenty of people about whom I am sure would gladly do so. Perhaps you should locate one them."

"I could, I guess..." Alfred turned his head towards a crowd of people beside them, "None of them seem nearly as interesting as you, though."

The sound of papers being flipped quickly caused Alfred to look back down at the stranger. He had shut his sketch book entirely, and was hugging it to his chest as he stood up. The man was scowling once again, his cheeks tinted a light pink.

"Where are you going?" Alfred asked, tilting his head slightly in confusion.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're playing at,” He spat, turning his back to Alfred, “but I am in no way interested. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Before Alfred could reply, the young artist quickly walked away. When Alfred called out to him, he just started walking faster until he disappeared into a crowd of people.

Alfred rubbed the back of his head and laughed. That hadn't gone as he had intended, but he was okay with that. He was sure he had made the man blush, and that alone was a small victory in his mind. He was determined to break through the young man's apparent prickly exterior- he'd just have to try harder next time.

\--

Alfred returned to the same spot the next day, and to his delight, the man from before was there once again. He was seated in the same spot, his sketch book in his lap just as it had been before, concentrating just as hard as he sketched. He didn't seem to notice when Alfred approached him. (Or was choosing not to notice- Alfred wasn't sure which.)

"Arthur Kirkland."

The young artist froze before looking at Alfred, who was smiling down at him smugly. For a small moment, he looked shocked, but he quickly replaced it with a look of indifference.

"Not only do you not listen," he began, turning back to his sketch book, "you are a stalker as well."

"I'm not a stalker." Alfred said, pouting. "That is your name, though, isn't it?"

"You truly expect me to answer that question?"

Alfred looked up in thought, then nodded. "Yes. Yes, I do."

"I am afraid you are going to find yourself sorely disappointed, then."

"I'll take that as a yes. And, for the record, I didn't stalk you or anything." He motioned towards the cafe in the corner of the plaza. "You frequent that cafe, yeah?"

The artist glanced towards the direction Alfred motioned, but said nothing.

"You have to since they know your name and all. I stopped by there after you left yesterday for some coffee, and the waitress asked if I was a friend of yours cause she saw me talking to you."

The artist paused momentarily, then said, "I'll have to speak with Shelly and ask her not to divulge anymore personal information concerning me to strangers."

"I wouldn't call us strangers anymore. I know your name and stuff. And before you say anything about not knowing mine, it's Alfred."

"I hadn't intended to say such a thing."

Alfred shrugged. "Well, just in case you were. So..." He looked at the empty spot beside Arthur, "Mind if I sit here?"

"Go right ahead."

Alfred felt his heart do a flip, and happily sat down on the cement. As he sat down, though, Arthur stood up.

"Hey, where are you going?" Alfred asked, frowning.

"Why must you Americans be so bloody nosy?" The Brit shut his sketchbook and looked over his shoulder to glare at Alfred. "If you must know, I am going home."

"Really? But I came all the way out here to see you..."

Arthur's face started to turn red, and he quickly turned it away. "Git." He muttered before walking away, leaving Alfred alone on the cement.

\--

Alfred wasn't sure what possessed him to return the next day- being rejected twice should have been enough to keep him away- but, he did. He wasn't expecting Arthur to actually be there this time, and he was very surprised when he was. By some stroke of luck, he was given another chance- one he didn't intend to screw up.

“Here.” Alfred said, holding a cup out towards Arthur. He was prepared today. He had made sure to make a stop at the cafe Arthur visited to get him something.

Arthur looked up and raised an eyebrow. “What's this?”

“A peace offering.”

The artist eyed the cup suspiciously.

“It's tea.” Alfred said. “The waitress at the cafe said it was your favorite, so...”

After a moment of hesitation, Arthur reached his hand out and took the cup. He eyed it warily, sniffed it, then took a sip.

“... It's good.” He muttered, his cheeks turning pink.

Alfred smiled brightly. “Guess she was right! You know, I think she likes you.” He winked. “She remembers your name and your favorite drink. Lucky you- she's pretty cute!”

“Hmm.” Arthur took another sip of his tea, then nodded. “I suppose she is. I doubt she actually does fancy me. I wouldn't be interested if she did.”

“Really? Well, maybe I'll make a move on her if you won't.”

Arthur quickly glanced towards Alfred, then back at his tea. “Go right ahead.”

“I could...” Alfred took a deep breath before continuing, “... but I won't. I'm much more interested in you.”

Arthur's cheeks began to rapidly turn a dark red, but that was the only sign he gave that he had actually heard what Alfred had said. Alfred fidgeted awkwardly, hoping the other would say something.

“You don't know me...” Arthur finally answered, looking directly into Alfred's eyes for the first time since they met.

“I'd like to get to know you... if you'd let me.”

Alfred saw something flash in Arthur's eyes, though he couldn't decide whether it was surprise or disgust. Shortly after that, though, Arthur scooted slightly to his left. Alfred stared at him quizzically as Arthur tilted his head back towards his sketchbook.

"You wanted to take a seat, did you not?"

"Oh, uh, yeah!" Alfred quickly sat down beside Arthur. He leaned closer to the other, and he could feel Arthur's face heating up as he did. "So, you're an artist?"

"Clearly."

"Ah, yeah, well, I mean, er... So are you studying it or something? I mean, you look around my age and stuff, so I figured you'd be going to school and there is a decent college here, though I guess you could be going to school for something else if you are going to school, which I guess you don't have to be, but-" Alfred wasn't sure what he was saying. He was just trying his hardest not to look or sound stupid, but it didn't seem to be working.

Arthur held his hand out, causing Alfred to quickly close his mouth and stop talking. "You really ought to stop and breathe at some point." His face began to soften, his usual scowl fading slightly. "I am an art student at the university here, if that is what you were getting at."

"Haha, I think that is what I was trying to say. That's awesome, though! I'm a computer science major myself. Art building is across campus from where I'm usually at... Guess that's why I've never seen you."

"Perhaps."

At first, Arthur acted very uninterested in anything Alfred had to say. Being as persistent as he was, though, he kept talking about anything and everything, and eventually, Arthur started to respond. At first, it was just quick glances in Alfred direction while he nodded, but then he started talking (With more than one sentence!) and asking questions. The more Arthur talked about himself- or anything, for that matter- the more interested Alfred became. The first time he made Arthur smile, he thought he would explode. It wasn't a big smile- it was small and hardly noticeable, but Alfred saw it, and was instantly convinced there was no better smile in the world. He wanted to see it again and again.

They continued to meet, day after day, in the same spot to chat as Arthur sketched. Every time Alfred tried to see what Arthur was drawing, he'd tilt his sketch book away from him and scowl at him. As curious as Alfred was, he couldn't help but find Arthur's actions unbelievably cute.

Just over two weeks after their meetings began, the rain returned. The sky was dark, and the rain was pouring from the sky at the time Alfred usually left to go see Arthur. He was sure Arthur wouldn't be out in that kind of weather, but he couldn't stop himself from going out there anyway.

When he arrived, he was surprised to see Arthur, seated in the same spot he usually was, a large umbrella leaning against his side so that it still covered him. He was wearing a clear, plastic rain poncho, and underneath that, as always, he had his sketchbook in his lap.

“Arthur!” Alfred called as he ran up to him.

Arthur looked up at him and nodded, his lips turning up into a small smile. “Hello, Alfred.”

Alfred sat down beside him on the wet cement and tilted his own umbrella so he could scoot closer to Arthur. “I honestly wasn't expecting you to be out here, but I'm glad you are.”

“I was planning to head indoors if you didn't arrive soon.”

Alfred couldn't stop the huge smile that formed. “So you _were_ waiting for me.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, then turned back to his sketchbook. “Hardly. I just don't wish to be held responsible should you fall ill waiting for me out here, as I knew you would.”

“So you were concerned about me. Well, either way, I'm happy to hear that.” He watched Arthur, who started blushing, and laughed. “Hey, you know, you never let me see what is in your sketchbook. You should let me take a peek!”

“I will not.”

“Oh, come on, Arthur. Please? I always watch you draw, but I never get to actually see it! I think I deserve that much.”

“Rejected.” Arthur stated in a tone that left no room for argument.

Alfred pouted. “Okay, okay...” He looked down at his feet, kicking them slightly, back and forth. “Every time I see you out here, you have that sketchbook. You must really like to draw.”

“Of course. I am an art student, after all. I would think it obvious that I would be quite fond of it.”

“I guess. I take it art in general is really important to you? Since you want to make a career of it and all.”

“Yes, art is quite important to me.” Arthur looked out into the falling rain, smiling slightly. “It's the one thing I've had in my life that was truly mine- the one thing that has always been there for me, I suppose. I have a large family, and yet, I've always been alone. I don't get on well with my siblings, and I don't make friends easily. When I felt lonely, or I needed an escape from my siblings, I had my art. I-” Arthur laughed softly before turning to look at Alfred. “You must think me completely mad now.”

“No!” Alfred said quickly. “No, I-” Crazy was the last thing he thought of Arthur at the moment. There was a look of vulnerability in his eyes- he was actually confiding in Alfred. He was actually letting Alfred in- letting him see a completely different side of himself... and Alfred found it absolutely beautiful. "I don't think you're...” He paused before asking, “Can I kiss you?"

Arthur's face quickly turned a deep shade of red, and he stared at Alfred. "P-pardon?"

"I... uh... I actually didn't mean to say that out loud, but I-I do want to kiss you."

Arthur stared at Alfred a few moments before nodding. "A-all right."

The last thing Alfred was expecting was a yes. He opened his mouth to say something else, but quickly closed it when he saw Arthur's eyes flutter shut. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand under Arthur's chin and tilted his head up slightly while he leaned forward, their umbrellas hitting against one another, until their lips touched.

Arthur's lips were soft, and really, that was the only thing Alfred could note about Arthur and his lips. Instead, his mind was trying to comprehend that he was actually _kissing_ Arthur and Arthur was kissing him back and how amazing it felt and how he never wanted to stop, not even to breathe. He'd never breathe again if he could stay like that, kissing Arthur.

Unfortunately, his body felt otherwise, and he was eventually forced to pull away from Arthur to breathe. Arthur was staring at him, his lips and cheeks both a deep red. Alfred gave him a goofy smile in return.

“Wow,” Alfred finally said, “that was, um...”

Arthur turned away from Alfred, the corners of his lips curving up slightly. “Yes, that was quite...”

“Hey," Alfred began, interrupting Arthur and causing him to turn back towards him, "you wanna go out with me tomorrow night? Like, you know, a date.”

“... A date?”

“Yeah.”

Arthur bit his bottom lip hesitantly. “I...”

“I won't take no for an answer." Alfred crossed his arms over his chest, nodding. "I mean, we've already kissed, so what's a date?”

“Idiot,” Arthur mumbled with a scowl.

“That's a yes, then?”

“If I must. You are clearly not above stalking, so I may as well accept your offer.” Arthur said, smirking.

Alfred started laughing, then leaned over and placed a small kiss on Arthur's lips. “It's a date.”

\--

The next night, Alfred went to pick up Arthur at his apartment. It was in a small apartment building not far from the downtown plaza where they had met. When Arthur answered the door, Alfred shoved a bouquet of roses he had bought on the way in his face.

“H-here!” He stuttered, hoping Arthur would like them.

“You didn't have to bring me flowers...” Arthur replied, frowning. His frown quickly turned into a smile, and he leaned forward to quickly kiss Alfred. “Thank you, though. Come inside while I find something to put these in.”

Alfred followed Arthur inside, through a short hallway, and into the main room of the apartment. Arthur motioned towards the couch, which Alfred happily sat on, before heading around a wall into what Alfred assumed was the kitchen.

Arthur's apartment was small and very clean- the complete opposite of Alfred's roomy, messy apartment. It looked very... Arthur, though. It was simple and clearly well organized. There were several shelves filled with books, movies (mainly British ones), and art supplies. Beside the couch, there was a small table with another book sitting on it (Sherlock Holmes, Alfred noted), and beside the book was a very familiar object: Arthur's sketchbook.

Alfred glanced over his shoulder to where he could hear Arthur rummaging through cabinets. Surely a quick glance wouldn't hurt...

He leaned over the the arm of the couch and flipped the sketchbook open. The first several pages were sketches of ocean scenery, followed by a few pages of the plaza where they had met. Arthur really was very talented, and Alfred wished he had more time to really examine the pictures, but he didn't want to get caught and piss the prickly Brit off.

The next page had some very well drawn sketches of a person that Alfred thought looked awfully familiar. He leaned closer to the sketchbook, and his eyes widened when he realized just who the person was. It was him- he flipped some more pages, and there were several more sketches of him. This whole time, Arthur had been drawing him?

“Sorry about that.” Arthur said, suddenly, causing Alfred to jump and quickly shut the sketchbook. He stood up and turned to see Arthur coming out from behind the wall carrying a vase of flowers. “No sense in letting perfectly lovely flowers go to waste.” He carefully placed the vase on the table beside his sketchbook, smiling at them fondly. “Roses just so happen to be my favorite.”

Alfred smiled. “I had a feeling.” He walked around the couch to where Arthur was standing, and held out his hand. “You ready?”

Blushing, Arthur reached out and took Alfred's hand. “I'm ready.”

Alfred squeezed Arthur's hand and smiled, earning a small smile and a squeeze in return.

“Let's go.” Alfred said, as he tugged on Arthur's hand and led him out of his apartment.


End file.
